


Happy Birthday, Sharpshooter

by vrepit_nah



Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Begging, Birthday, Biting, Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Boys Kissing, Crying, Fluff and Smut, Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Marking, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Sensory Deprivation, Smut, Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), Spanking, Sweet Keith (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), Uniforms, thigh-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrepit_nah/pseuds/vrepit_nah
Summary: Bottom Lance WeekDay 25: SpankingDay 27: Uniforms, Sensory DeprivationWhile Keith prepares for Lance's birthday, the birthday boy himself tries to make plans. He fails, but Keith is always there to make things work.Lance is reminded how much he's loved on his birthday.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841374
Comments: 5
Kudos: 206





	Happy Birthday, Sharpshooter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to Lance!!

So… 28th of July and…

Keith is _stressed_. He is sure he would get grey hairs with how much he’s worrying about this because it needs to be _perfect_. Everything needs to be in place for tonight.

And see, usually, Keith is okay with half-assed plans. He is the king of half-assing with his full ass—he’s not afraid to admit he’s got a juicy ass anymore. Lance practically drilled it into him every time they had sex. When Lance’s freezing cold, long fingers would slide over his hip and cup his bare butt early in the mornings as they lay in bed and Keith would shriek and kick at him. When Lance would eat him out and moan, suffocating himself between Keith’s soft cheeks. When Keith was forced to put on his old BOM suit and twirl for Lance—ugh, the things he does for love.

Lance loved every second of Keith’s awkward stumbling. He spent a longer time with his back to Lance as the lanky boy jacked himself off to the sight of Keith’s ass wrapped tight and snug in the fitted suit. Keith had to stand there, cursing himself for feeling turned on, cursing himself for listening every time Lance told him to bend over, pop his ass out, arch his back but it earned him raspy groans and a little extra loving from a blissed-out Lance.

Lance, on the other hand, had a flat ass. As flat as a _pancake_ , and the first time Keith smacked it and hurt his hand because that was _bone_ he was hitting, Lance shouted in outrage and made him worship that flat ass for hours.

Not that Keith is complaining. He loves Lance’s flat ass.

Don’t get him started on Lance’s broad, muscular shoulders and back because _phew_ , the number of times Keith painted it white with his—

He’s getting off-topic and _horny_.

Great, now he needs to find his boyfriend. No, no, _first_ , he needs to pay attention to the briefing he’s attending and oh, shit, did Shiro notice him zoning out?

After the briefing wraps up with a hearty ‘ _good evening_ ,’ Shiro approaches him, a smile tugging on his lips. “So, today’s the day, huh?”

“Yep,” Keith fiddles with his fingers nervously, “you guys are okay with your parts, right?”

“Allura is most excited,” Shiro laughs. “If this doesn’t go perfectly, I think she’ll break something. Gotta watch out for Pidge in case she adds something like a swear word.”

Keith snorts. “Pretty sure Lance would love that. Keep an eye on her. How’s Hunk coming along?”

“He’s locked himself up in his room. That kid can’t keep a secret for his life, and he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” Shiro shakes his head, amused. “And you? Nervous?”

That is the understatement of the year. Like mentioned before, things had to be perfect. Lance is easy to please, even the smallest, shittiest, hand-written card makes him tear up, but now that they’ve been released from the hospital after defeating Sendak, Keith wanted to do something special for Lance’s birthday, something big that screamed ‘ _you deserve this, Lance. I love you, Lance.’_

For Keith’s birthday, Lance had made it the best birthday Keith ever had. They weren’t even dating at the time, but this had been before they returned to earth. Lance had dragged Keith to the Castleship from the Blades of Marmora for a day, threw a nice birthday party, and then walked in with Keith’s present—a long katana that Keith’s brain had short-circuited.

Oh, that also happened to be the night Lance barged into his room and kissed him after rambling for ten minutes about how much he didn’t hate Keith’s hair—called it—and that he didn’t want Keith to leave without a proper goodbye.

“Just hope he likes it,” Keith mumbles.

Shiro looks incredulous. “You could give him a badly drawn portrait of himself and he’d like it.”

He _knows_ but that doesn’t stop the stress.

“Get him on black in an hour. We’ll do the rest,” Shiro assures as he claps Keith’s shoulder. “And don’t worry. Your plan will work.”

“Thanks, Shiro.” Keith decides to go to Lance now. He was taking an evening nap, so he could disturb him and piss Lance off a little. He can already imagine the scowl as Lance snaps off his eye-mask, props himself up on his elbows, and then starts scolding Keith about his beauty sleep.

Keith laughs to himself outside the door of their shared bedroom in the garrison base. From the inside, he hears a loud thud and then a curse. Letting the door slide open, he finds Lance wide awake, stumbling around the room blindly with a red garrison uniform stuck from his shoulders and up, pinning his arms to his ears.

Lance screeches to a stop and turns to Keith, vaguely guessing because his entire face is covered, and he looks like a lost puppy blinded by a bag. The jacket tilts to the right as Lance tentatively asks, “Keith?”

That does it. Keith has to hold onto the door as he bends over and laughs, hard and loud. When Lance’ body deflates and the jackets falls over slightly, perfectly depicting Lance’s pouty attitude, Keith laughs harder.

“What—” _wheeze_ , “—are you doing?” 

Lance hops on his feet as he struggles to pull the jacket off but it’s tight and his raised arms can’t even shift. “I can’t get this thing off! Keith, help!”

Keith wipes the tears in his eyes and lets the door shut behind him. He inspects Lance, biting back another laugh as Lance begins wiggling, as if that would help. So, Keith takes a little pity on him and lightly tugs on the jacket.

Well and truly stuck.

“What’s the verdict?” Lance asks, a small sigh sounding from the inside of the jacket.

“The verdict is you’re an idiot, and I love you.”

“Aw.”

Keith takes in the rest of Lance. The jacket is scrunched over Lance’s shoulders and covering his arms and head, but underneath, it doesn’t even reach his chest. His _bare_ chest, where the rest of his body is only covered by black boxers, tight and small on him that the bottoms of his ass cheeks spill out, and Keith just now realizes, _huh, you know what?_ Time to follow some advice on missing opportunities.

The back of his palm brushes along Lance’s bare chest, and a struggling Lance squeaks. Humming, Keith admires the soft skin of his stomach, drifting down to the waistband of Lance’s boxers.

Lance has gone unnaturally still.

When he grabs Lance’s hip, his chest heaves as if he finally began breathing.

“Keith,” Lance warns, head cocked but since Keith can’t see his expression, he studies the next best thing. Lance’s body. The way his chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as Keith’s other hand snakes around his waist and drags him forward. Lance yelps as he hits Keith’s chest, arms twitching in their confines. “Keith, c’mon, not _now_.”

When a hand cups Lance’s ass, Lance laughs. "Keith, this isn’t fair."

“Hm, how come?" Keith tugs the jacket again, but it doesn’t budge. "And why are you wearing my jacket?"

Lance grows silent. After a second, he mutters, "I wanted to wear it for you."

"For me?"

"When the briefing got over, I wanted to surprise you. Wearing your jacket and nothing else, just waiting for you to come and ravish me?" Lance's voice has turned confident, as if even blinded and restrained, he can tell Keith’s mood. Then, Lance grinds his hips in a tight circle and Keith’s breath stutters, because _that’s_ how Lance can tell what Keith’s feeling.

"And today being my birthday, well, i wanted you to do all the work."

Keith grunts. "Of course, you would.” His fingers are slipping into the waistband now, scraping his nails across the smooth skin of Lance's ass, gripping it tight and grinning because it’s so fucking skinny, it’s adorable.

Lance huffs a breath. "And this stupid thing ruined it. My shoulders are so broad this thing couldn’t come off!"

"Why didn’t you use the buttons?"

All sultry words and horny thoughts were at the back of his mind as he watched Lance grumble. "Who uses buttons these days? It's easier to slip things on, and do you know how difficult the garrison makes these buttons? It's worse than the hidden zipper in your suit."

"You found that pretty quickly," Keith mutters, slowly inching Lance backwards. He doesn’t seem to notice because he's still complaining about buttons.

"Well," Lance says, "that's because nothing gets in my way when I’m desperate for your cock, Keith." again, Lance's voice drops an octave and it makes Keith shudder. "So, what do you say we get this off so you can fuck me?"

Keith shoves Lance and he yelps, falling back on the bed, bouncing. He groans loudly. "You scared the shit out of me! What was that for?"

Keith pounces on him, presses a kiss to lane's chest. "I think," he rumbles low and husky, and Lance's soft hiccup makes him smile against his skin. His lips trail kisses to his chest before wrapping around Lance's nipple. He sucks it into his mouth, and Lance keens. “I think I should fuck you like this. Where you can’t see, you can't move, and I can do what I want with you." Softly licking and nibbling at the nipple, Keith hums. "Doesn’t that sound better?"

Lance sighs, soft and dreamy. His head finally falls back onto the pillow, legs spreading invitingly, and Keith thinks that even powerless, Lance has control over him.

I’m not too sure. Convince me."

Keith's large hands pushes his thighs apart a little further until he's settled there. His tongue slips out and he mouths at the crotch of Lance's boxers, slow and careful. Lance flinches as his tongue wets the fabric against the hardness.

Keith presses his nose to Lance’s clothed cock, breathing in. "You look so good like this, Lance. All tense and waiting, wondering what I’m going to do next." He suddenly bites at the flesh of his inner thigh and Lance startles, a small whine escaping him as Keith takes the flesh between his teeth and begins sucking a mark into it. Lance moans, writhing a little as Keith grabs the other thigh and begins running his hand up and down, caressing all the way to his bulge.

Then, his hand comes down on his crotch, tight and sudden.

Lance’s hips buck upwards wildly as he chokes on a whimper. "Keith!" Keith sucks on his skin harder, marking bruises all the way up his thighs, pressing kisses like a path until he reaches Lance's cock.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now, birthday boy.”

“When have I _ever_ wanted you to stop?” Lance snaps, wriggling impatiently, legs trying to capture Keith’s head.

“There was that one time you p—”

“No, no, no, we don’t talk about that. That doesn’t count, mister!”

Keith sighs. “Then, never, I guess.”

“Exactly, thank you.” Lance’s foot wiggles in the air, nudging Keith forward. “Now, fuck me, goddammit."

Keith finally slips off Lance's boxers. Lance's cock stands hard against his stomach, the flushed tip leaking, and when Keith grabs his cock and presses his tongue to the top, enveloping the head to taste, Lance moans.

"Taste so good, baby," Keith mutters, and Lance's hips roll up desperately, body stretched taut like an elastic band.

The next thing Lance knows, he's being flipped, and the world goes dizzy for a moment. Keith spreads Lance's cheeks, peppering kisses over Lance' butt. "Such a cute little butt."

Lance sniffs. "Damn, right, it is."

He doesn’t anticipate it. Lance shrieks as Keith's palm strikes his cheek. The hit vibrates through his body and Lance's cock drools a little more.

"Keith, oh god— _haa_ —yes!”

Keith reels back. That wasn’t expected, but when he sees the beginnings of red popping up on Lance's ass, he can’t resist spanking the other cheek, watching it jiggle. Muffled groans fill the air as Lance’s knees slide apart further, and a tracing of Keith's fingers down the crease of his cheeks, past his perineum, and to his balls where he fondles them before striking Lance again with the other hand has Lance twitching, a litany of his moans ripping from him. "Yes, c’mon, baby. Fuck me, _please_."

Was it that easy to make him beg? Was it the blindfold and restraints? Was it the spanking? Did it matter? Not yet.

Not at the moment.

Watching Lance's body rut, hot and waiting, those soft, bony hips thrusting backwards in search for his cock, only Keith’s cock, has Keith ripping off his pants and underwear.

There is no lube. There is no problem.

As Keith grabs Lance's thighs and slips his cock between them, Lance whines, high and impatient.

"You gonna fuck my thighs, baby?" Lance's head and arms are down on the bed, hips raised high and mesmerizing. He sways them lightly. "I want your cock in me instead."

Another spank to his ass has Lance’s breath stuttering, body tensing before it turns liquid in the way it relaxes. Keith finds him more pliable as he slips his stiff cock between those soft, skinny thighs and presses them close. He groans as he pushes slightly, the friction hot and delicious.

He starts thrusting, slow and gently, where the head of his cock rubs along Lance's balls and his base. Lance is writhing in his grasp, mumbling things he cannot make out.

Reaching around, Keith grabs Lance's cock in a tight grip and strokes him along with the thrusts. "Come on birthday boy, are you there yet?"

Lance laughs, which breaks off into a cry as Keith pounds in him and pumps him, flicking his wrist. "Not even close..."

So, Keith picks up the pace, sliding into the warm tightness of his apex, rubbing a hand over Lance's ass, teasing his rim with his pinkie and his hole clenches around the tip of his finger. Keith rolls his hips, the tops of his thighs smacking against Lance's ass with hard claps. Soft little ‘ _ah, ah, ah's_ leave Lance's mouth, desperate and needy, each getting high-pitched with every thrust in between his legs. Lance is bare to him, beautiful and everything wonderful, and god, was Keith glad Lance was born.

Keith ruts his hips hard. His finger teases circles rim, his other hand begins teasing his slit, pressing down as Lance chokes out a moan, shudders, pushes back into the thrusts, and he’s a work of art that Keith is the only person who has the pleasure of witnessing.

"Ha— _ah_ , fuck me— _fuck_ , Keith," Lance whimpers, confused whether he wants to roll back into Keith's hips or forward into his tight hand.

It's short and simple and nice. There's no stars or comets or fireworks. It feels like pure relief and security and flurrying thoughts of love when Keith presses into Lance, letting him spill into his hand.

Keith pulls away, coming hard and marking Lance’s bruised thighs and ass with white threads of cum, hot and dirty. As Lance sighs happily, limbs shaking, Keith leans over, chest to back, and peppers kisses over the exposed skin of his smooth, muscular back. He pays special attention to the starburst scar on Lance's back. "I love your body," Keith whispers, thumbing the scars he knows Lance is insecure about. "How was that, birthday boy?" He murmurs.

Lance hums, chest flushing pink. "Felt different, nice. Wish I could’ve seen you."

I wish I had seen your face when I spanked you." he lets his hand run over the welts, the red imprints of his hand on Lance's sensitive, brown cheeks. Lance makes an embarrassed sound. "I didn’t know that was a thing."

Keith noses along his neck, finally beginning to undo those complicated buttons on the jacket. "I’m pretty sure you knew. You’re kinky."

"I’m a normal amount of kinky. You’re the one with the weird, freaky kinks," Lance shoots back, shoulders popping free. He rolls them and Keith watches his muscles under the skin, beautiful and tight.

"I think that biting is normal. You love it." Keith nips his shoulder affectionately and earns a short laugh. He helps Lance remove the jacket and toss it to the ground. When Lance turns around, Keith can see how much this affected him.

Other than the sore arms being held up for so long, Lance looks debauched. His lips are swollen are bright from biting, cheeks are blushing red and his hair is so mussed and damp that Keith runs his fingers through the mess a couple of times for it to resemble Lance's hairstyle vaguely.

"You look wrecked, Lance," Keith says, leaning forward to capture Lance's lips. Lance moans softly, hands coming to grip Keith's shoulders as they share a sweet kiss. "I should spank you more often."

Lance grumbles, fighting back a smile. His eyes flutter close. "wasn’t how I planned tonight, but it'll have to do."

Keith's eyes fall on the clock and he shoots up, squawking and scaring the shit out of Lance. Lance watches Keith run around like a headless chick, darting into the bathroom to get a wet towel. He begins scrubbing Lance clean, lifting his thighs up.

"What the hell is going on?" he asks, brows raised. "You—you’re panicking. Babe, why are you panicking?"

Keith's wide eyes meet his, hands still wiping off sweat and cum. "We have ten minutes. Oh my god, you distracted me!"

"Woah, ten minutes for what?" Lance grabs him before he can run away, and Keith fidgets. "hey, come on, what’s going on? Is this the surprise Hunk was afraid to tell me about?"

Keith kisses Lance's head as if he cannot help it, and then runs to the closet. He tosses clothes to Lance, shouting, "put them on! Now! Hurry, hurry, get up!"

Fuelled with his distress, Lance slips on the soft sweatpants and shirt, throwing on his olive-green jacket. Keith is already dressed, combing his hair down. When he checks the time, Keith panics harder.

Lance turns to the mirror and begins flattening his hair, but then Keith grabs the comb and tosses it away. "You look cute, let’s go!” And drags them out.

Lance is amused. Slightly afraid, but amused, because Keith doesn’t really panic. He flies off the handle, gets angry, maybe commits a criminal offense a little bit here and there, but he never looks afraid or nervous. Except _now_.

When they make it to the black lion, Keith ushers Lance on the head of it, and where they sit under the evening light sky. The sun has nearly set, casting the desert in tones of gold and oranges and blood red. A soft breeze blows, but Lance uses that as an excuse to sidle up to Keith, who allows him to crawl under his arm, snuggle into his chest, and press a kiss to Keith’s neck.

“Not going to lie, Keith, I love spending time with you even in a barren desert,” Lance mumbles, eyes the slowly dotting stars. The moon is at a crescent and Lance thinks that even after all their space travel, he still hasn’t gone to the moon.

For their next date, then,

“But why were you panicking so much about this?” Lance completes. Keith is rigid and eagerly scanning the sky, absently rubbing his arm on Lance’s waist.

Before he can answer, there’s a charge of engines that rumble, muffled and eager. And in the distance, when they squint, they can see three lions, the green, yellow, and blue lions charging towards them, and alongside is a lone MFE plane trying to keep up.

Lance sits up. Keith grins widely as they watch the vehicles come closer, and then disband, all of them circling them before the air is filled with colours of Voltron, blue and red dominating the sky, coming from the tails of the lions and the base of the MFE plane.

“What…” Lance whispers in awe as the vehicles start emitting the colours in a certain form, suspended in the sky. The loud runs of the engines are near deafening, and Keith just knew that from the MFE jet, Shiro is looking down at them with a gleeful smile.

Keith turns to Lance, who has this awestruck smile, head tilted to the skies and fists clenched gently in Keith’s shirt, a soft laugh escaping him as the colourful smoke forms the words:

_‘Happy B’day, sharpshooter!’_

The jet does the exclamation point, shooting through and flying over their heads, and Lance leaps to his feet, laugh freely spilling into the air as he whoops, and when Keith stands up to join him, Lance tackles him into a hug, body shaking with joy.

“Oh my god, Keith, thank you!” Lance kisses him hard before looking back up where the lions perform loops and tricks against the message. The blue lion is unbridled in its enthusiasm, probably Allura getting overexcited at participating in celebrating Lance’s birthday. His entire face is split with his grin and Keith…

Keith falls harder than he ever has, curling his fingers around Lance as they stare at the display. Lance cannot stop mumbling his praises.

Lance suddenly freezes and Keith’s mind drives itself into panic.

“Uh, Keith? Is Pidge drawing a dick?”

Keith’s eyes grow wide as he stares at the— _yup_ , that’s a dick, alright. He swears to smack Pidge over the head when he sees her.

But then Lance is chuckling again. “That gremlin knows how to make my day better.”

_Unbelievable._

Still, Keith draws Lance in, staring at the beautiful boy shining in the golden light of the setting sun, admiring how painless, how full he feels with love and joy, and Keith leans forward, knocking their foreheads together.

“Did I wow you?”

Lance’s eyes crinkle as he giggles. Their noses brush at every movement but when Lance opens his eyes, Keith cups his cheek tenderly, finally noticing how glossy they look.

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance breathes, silent tears slipping out. “Thank you so much. You’re so wonderful. You’re amazing. You’re all such good friends and I’m so lucky—” his voice cracks but he’s smiling, he’s _so_ happy. “— _so lucky_ to have you all in my life. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Keith’s eyes sting with tears. Then, Lance is tipping Keith’s chin up and capturing his lips in the softest kiss, hearts overflowing with love and promises and everything else they feel because it’s all _so much,_ and they know they’ve reached a peak in their lives together.

When Keith pulls away, he murmurs with love, “happy birthday, my sharpshooter.”


End file.
